


12 Days of Christmas with Seventeen

by ShimkungSeungkwan (idyllicblue)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyllicblue/pseuds/ShimkungSeungkwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I made a prompt list but then work, christmas shopping and Boo's birthday project got in the way. I'll at least release what I have once I've polished it up. <br/>1. Winter clothing: Wonkwan<br/>2. Angel - Jicheol<br/>3. Mistletoe: Jihan<br/>4. Snowman - 2seung<br/>5.  Grinch: Jikwan<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glove at First Sight

Glove at First Sight  
  
  
  
Tuesday morning, and the mist is thick over the campus grounds. The air is chilly enough to warrant proper winter gear, and Wonwoo tucks his chin deeper into his neat navy scarf as he stands alone at the shuttle stop. He’d take out his phone to check his email again, but his hands are too comfy nestled in his pockets to help out. Instead, he drifts over to the slapdash mishmash of stapled postings on the side of the station. There’s a missing pet posting that make him feel a little sad, billions of half-ripped For Rent slips fluttering in the breeze, plus the usual ads for CHEAP, AFFORDABLE TUTORING NOW. Smack in the middle is something more unique: someone has very badly drawn a picture of a bloody hand, a long red string trailing from it. Except the hand has green and white doodles on it, and there are words indicating it’s supposed to be a mitten. Ah, not so gory after all. Underneath, the artist has written in curly letters what looks like poetry, though the snow has smudged the lettering a bit, and Wonwoo squints to make out the words.

“Lost: My Other Half

I was lovingly knitted by my owner’s mother who will stop making me delicious food if she found out my other half eloped.

Not really, but she’d cry, and that will ruin my appetite : (

Last seen on a rainy December 4th.

Seek out my owner,

I’ll be holding his hand everyday until my other half is found.

Thanks” followed by a string of hearts.

All in all, it’s a little adorable. Wonwoo finds himself smiling at it, and wiggles his own hands in front of him. Long fingers clad in wooly greyness wave back. He feels a little sorry for this poor soul out there with the singularly frozen fingers. He likes how his hands looks right now, toasty and warm in nice touchscreen gloves he saved up for last Christmas. The sounds of the approaching bus drive all thoughts of the posting away as he scrambles for his bus pass, the wool over his fingers making it difficult to grasp it, and he forgets all about strange posting for the rest of the week.  

It’s finally Friday, but Wonwoo needs to hand in this essay tonight, so he’s camping out at the coffee shop on campus. He’s been scribbling ideas for essay topics on his notebook for an hour now, his laptop idling, when he realizes he’s at 5% and running low fast. The cord is in his bag but somehow it’s become a long and entangled nest of snakes, dropping to the floor in his haste. As he bends down to attempt at wrangling it towards the outlet, he notices something red peeking out from between the table leg and the wall near the floor. He wouldn’t even have seen it, but the red stands out against his black bag. With a tug, it slips out: a red knitted glove, green reindeer dancing across the back, with white snowflakes across the bottom. Wonwoo regards it blankly, wondering what kind of person would wear something so festive. It’s a perfect match for the cutely horrid drawing he saw in the posting. Ah. He straightens up, the woolen treasure still in hand, and places it on the table in clear view of the door in case said someone happens to frequent this coffee shop too. Perhaps he’ll keep it with him like a strange good luck charm until the owner is found. Wonwoo hums to himself, wondering how else he can find the owner, before he realizes he almost forgot about his essay at the mercy of his dying laptop and plugs it in with a little grateful sigh. The night wears on as he gets into the groove of writing again. He can see the end of his essay approaching, and he’s glad for it: coffee can only do so much, and he finds himself staring at his own faint reflection in the window more and more often as exhaustion sets in. Outside, the rain has turned to flurries of snow. A flock of umbrellas is slowly gathering at the bus stop outside, clamoring to get out of the steadily worsening weather. A figure clad in a red puffy parka standing close to the window pushes his hood back to look skyward, and Wonwoo catches his breath: he’s beautiful, the soft boyish curves of his face framed in fur as he holds out a bare hand in wonder.  Small flakes of snow settle onto his hair, a black curtain scattered with flecks of white like the stars in the sky above. His newly exposed ears quickly turn red from the cold. His other hand is tucked deep into the pocket of his parka, his head almost buried in a long red and green scarf. The boy takes out both of his hands and blows on them to warm them up.

And there, on his right hand, is one obnoxious red glove, emblazoned with green reindeers.

 

Wonwoo panics, and raps on the glass for his attention. The boy sends a cursory glance towards the window, but turns back.

Hm. This won’t do. The bus could arrive at any moment, and then he’s lost his chance. But he can’t leave his things alone in the coffee shop and he doesn’t want to rush out into the cold…. But maybe…

The glove is surprisingly warming and soft as he slips his own hand in. The appendages are too short for his own long fingers, but it’ll do.

He raps again, and spreads his wool clad fingers against the glass.

Wonwoo watches the boy’s eyes eyes light up, before he slowly takes his hand out from his pocket and presses it against the pane. The matching gloves mirror one another.

The snow continues to fall between them as they stare at one another through the glass. The boy looks even more beautiful facing towards the Christmas lights edging the store window, his eyes sparkling.

A car drives by too fast, splashing in a roar through the puddle by the curb, and shatters them out of their daze. In a flash, the boy is at the door, yanking it open to let in a huge gust of cold air. He rushes towards Wonwoo and his arms squeeze tight around him. Wonwoo’s face is suddenly buried in folds and folds of the matching nauseatingly Christmas scarf.

“You found it! Hallelujah it’s a Christmas miracle~!”  

It turns out Seungkwan lives in the dorm next to Wonwoo’s, so he walks him there, the other boy chattering, his reunited gloves dancing in the air as he gesticulates wildly about his day.

 

**************************************

Christmas is around the corner again, and this time, Wonwoo has got his hands tucked into his pockets with a sheepish smile.

“You lost them? “

His boyfriend is noisy, fussing and scoffing like he hadn’t lost them himself last year.  

“Here, wear mine.”

Wonwoo cups the boy’s gloved hands in his own before the brunet can even slip one off, and looks earnestly into his eyes.

“But then you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, sweetheart.” The pink that tinges Seungkwan’s face is from more than the cold, he’s sure. “How about this for an idea?”

He slowly peels one glove off the small hands before him, before slipping them over his left hand. His right entangles itself with Seungkwan’s left, and Wonwoo gives the newly exposed fingers a little kiss before letting their twined hands fall between them.

“This way, I can keep your hand warm as a way of thanks,”

“I also take other forms of thank you payment, but this will do for now,” the boy replies. Wonwoo catches a glimpse of his cute smile before it’s tucked away behind the thick Christmas scarf.

 

Later, he finds his own pair smashed into the bottom of his bag under his laptop. The cozy feeling of Seungkwan’s hand tucked into his today comes to mind. The gloves lay innocently in his hands as he considers, before they are returned to their resting place: Wonwoo can already hear Seungkwan’s special and obnoxiously loud message tone calling for his attention, and the little smile that dances across his features at the thought of a reason to hold his hand every day warms his heart as he picks up the phone to reply.


	2. At the Right Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first work that I wrote up with this prompt series one tired night after work in November, when Jihoon's hair was slowly washing out. Also, I thought his ashy hair worked better for this (and I really like how he looks in it), so there's that.

Seungcheol lies alone in the snowy bank by the side of the road, watching the lonely flakes drift down from the wide, white expanse of sky above. It is eerily quiet, the sounds of the city muffled by the heavy snowfall that fell in droves overnight, blanketing all it touched in a shroud of silence. Few cars are on the road today due to its abrupt nature, and today’s schedule has been cancelled due to lack of transportation.

He closes his eyes to enjoy the quiet, and when they next open, an angel is hovering over him.

The weak sunlight reflecting off the snow gives Jihoon’s washed out hair an ethereal glow. The pink has long faded, leaving him with ashy blond locks once more. Seungcheol grins up at the grumpy man staring down at him: for once, the shortie towered over him.

“Hyung, did you get hit by a car?”

“I can’t afford that! No, I’m having some fun. Come join me,” says Seungcheol with a chuckle. He pats the freshly fallen snow next to him, his glove leaving a hand-shaped indentation.

Jihoon regards him with a serious expression, before carefully sitting down in the snow.

“Now lie down.” Seungcheol tsks as Jihoon just flops onto his back, and grabs his hand.

“With hands outstretched, like this. Now swipe your legs from side to side.”

The susurrus of snow sandwiching from their movements fills the air. Then Seungcheol offers Jihoon a mittened hand up, and they step back to assess their work. The mess on the right is enormous and slightly chubby, consequences of Seungcheol’s puffy winter jacket and his messing around to look at Jihoon. On the left, however, is a picture of perfection: one small, perfectly formed angel in the snow. Jihoon’s attempts to brush the snow out of his bangs has even made a halo around its head. The short and the tall angel have their hands linked, and Jihoon suddenly realizes his hand is still cradled within Seungcheol’s. His face flushes, as if his body wasn’t cold enough already.

“You make a beautiful angel,” says Seungcheol matter-of-factly, his face wreathed with smiles and cheeks bright with the cold and if Jihoon doesn’t get away from this naïve gorgeous flirt, he’s going to cook right there in his winter coat.

He turns away so Seungcheol can’t see the blush creeping up past his collar and replies with a curt “Let’s get back inside.” He doesn’t let go of Seungcheol’s hand as he stomps away though, and they walk back towards the company building through the falling snow, hands linked and thoughts of each other swirling through their minds like the snowflakes around them.    
  



	3. Mistletoe

“There, all done.” His stylist backs away, looking satisfied. They’re preparing for the first ever Christmas concert, and it’s finally Jeonghan’s turn to be done. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Soonyoung in the swivel chair next to him lean back to check him over.

“Wait, let me-“ Soonyoung leans over and does something with his bangs.

“Well, how do I look?”

Soonyoung gives him a cheeky thumbs up, and pushes him out the door before he can take a good look at himself. Joshua is waiting as usual for him outside, his makeup and hair perfectly done already. The auburn hair shines red and gold even in the mundane lights of the hallway, and Jeonghan thinks this autumnal style suits him well. Then again, anything seems to suit the gentleman well, with his big doe eyes and kind smile as their eyes meet. Joshua is giving him a funny look now though.

 “Is there something wrong?”

Suddenly he’s being dragged away by his hand into a corner. His hair is being brushed away from his face.

“You .. do you want this?”

“Wha-what? “ The amber-haired boy is crowding into his space, their lips a breath away. How had he known? His heart is beating in his throat so hard he cannot speak. Jeonghan just nods, eyes wide.

Joshua leans forwards, his lips brushing against Jeonghan’s. Just that little contact, a bit of pressure, and Jeonghan feels like he’s melted away, like a snowflake dissolving with a single touch. Joshua’s hand is cradling his chin and it feels like that’s the only thing holding him up as Jeonghan sags backwards.

“You… you knew?”

Joshua’s cheeks are tinted pink. “I had an inkling… and you had this today.” The hand moves to brush at his bangs, and suddenly his hair feels lighter. Jeonghan looks in wonder at the little green branch resting in Joshua’s hand.

“How did that get there?”

“It’s mistletoe. If two people meet under a branch of it, they have to kiss,” explains Joshua, incredulously. “So you didn’t put this in your hair?”

A laugh bubbles out from Jeonghan. He knows who his cupid is, and though he’s embarrassed, he’s glad to have a thoughtful friend like Soonyoung.

“I didn’t, but now that I know…” Jeonghan gently takes the greenery and affixes it in Joshua’s hair, then pulls him in for another kiss, much deeper and longer than the last. 


	4. Snowman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE 2SEUNG OKAY. This was the 2nd fill I did for this Advent fill list.   
> I might end up writing more 2seung for the other prompts, haha.

“Aw man, he doesn’t have a scarf! A scarf is THE most important fashion accessory for a snowman!”

Seungkwan whips off the striped scarf his mother handknit for him last winter and arranges it neatly around the snowman’s neck before looking at Seungcheol in chagrin, his own neck now bared to the elements.   
  
“We can just share one, Kwannie,” says Seungcheol with as much heroic poise as he can muster as he coolly unwinds his own scarf to tuck the larger portion of it around Seungkwan’s neck.   
  
Seungkwan pouts.   
“It’s too short, I can barely move.”   
“I’ll just have to follow you wherever you go from now on then.”

“You’re such a corndog, jagiya!” Seungkwan hits his arm lightly, but the way he’s smiling means he likes it, and Seungcheol just pulls him close into his arms, burying his nose into his slightly damp brunet bangs.

“What are you doing!?”   
“Warming up my nose. Plus you smell nice.”

“I borrowed Jeonghan’s shampoo since you like it so much.” Seungkwan bites his lip at the admission, and the little hint of toothy white against the redness of his lips makes Seungcheol swoop down to kiss it, his arms tightening around Seungkwan’s waist as the younger man responds to his ministrations. Seungcheol breathes in the smell of citrus flowers and Seungkwan, and decides he likes it even better mixed in with the warm, soothing scent of his boyfriend. They continue to kiss, snowman forgotten, the snow drifting down around the happy couple, lost in their own wintery wonderland of soft chapped lips and cold fingers sliding beneath woolen sweaters.


	5. Grinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon's too busy to celebrate a secular holiday, anyway. Seungkwan's not going to let that happen.

It’s the day before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even Jihoon.

“I’m not celebrating.”

“Oh come on hyung, it’ll be fun! “

“I have work to do,” Jihoon grumbles around the pen in his mouth.

He finds himself being dragged out of the house and shoved into the company car. It takes off before he has a chance to Seungkwan drags him from store to store, putting shirt after shirt on his small frame. Jihoon parries the endless barrage of nosy queries for his opinion, mind occupied with composing the next bars of his original composition for their first comeback of 2016. His fingers drum along coffee shop counters, escalator railings, display mannequins, itching to commit his music from memory to machine.

“Hyung.” He needs to keep it fresh. Maybe he can get the rap line to do some vocal this time.

“Hyung!” Speaking of switching parts, maybe he can get the members who know how to play instruments together and do a live band arrangement for Mansae. Joshua wouldn’t mind, and he could dust off his drumsticks…

“HYUNG,” Seungkwan’s slightly irritated and definitely irritating smiling face pops up in front of him, successfully throwing his train of thought off. Jihoon sighs again. Perhaps he should just give up on trying to work while he’s here and just focus on hurrying this trip along. So he waves goodbye the eighths and quarter notes dancing around his head and lets himself to be Seungkwan’s pack reindeer for the day. The day does indeed pass much quicker: soon they’re both wobbling their way back to the company car, Seungkwan laughing at the way his hyung looks, with bags hanging off his arms which are stacked so high with presents that he’s forced to walk sideways to see.

*************************************************************

The door is closed, his silencing headphones are on, and the low whirr of his Mac kicking into gear signals the beginning of a stunning new piece. Jihoon lets himself settle deep into his comfortable swivel chair, his eyes half closed as he waits for his composition program to load up his soundclip library. He’s bone tired from all the Christmas shopping: it feels like Seungkwan tied him to the back of Santa’s sleigh and his weary body has been trundled all over town for hours. He’s finally back though, and as he sits up straighter to rest his hands on his mixer and mouse, he can feel the familiar hum of anticipation at what magic he’ll create today.

 

Jihoon happens to look at the time in the middle of cropping a soundclip down: it’s already dinner time on Christmas Eve, but he’s got such a good thing going, so he ignores the rumbling in his belly to look over his work. It’s ready for recording: he might as well get it down now. Just a little bit more. The others understand when he gets in this kind of mood, and leave him alone. Except for, of course, the noisy brat.

Seungkwan charges into the studio with a plate laden with food just as Jihoon is about to record himself reciting some lines. There goes that recording… . “Ya… Seungkwan…what do you want,” is all he can really say as he takes his headphones off.  He might as well resign himself to the younger man’s insistent attention: he means well, but it was a little annoying with his timing.

 “Try some, hyung. Say Ah~” and a forkful of very salty looking turkey is forced into his mouth. Jihoon begrudgedly chews and swallows. There’s a hint of everything on it, creamy gravy mixing with sweet cranberry in a complex flavour that makes him close his eyes and think of home. Not thoughts he needs to be thinking about that will contribute to his work. Still, he enjoys it while it lasts, until the last of it slides down his throat and he opens his eyes.

“I’m not dead from eating it. Yay. Now get along, I have a deadline to meet.”

“I’ll leave your dinner here for you hyung,” the boy says cheerily ,ignoring his snippy behavior. Seungkwan is also careful to close the door quietly behind him as he leaves, and for that, Jihoon is grateful.

 

When he later comes to pick up the tray, Jihoon is curled up to one side of the keyboard. The dishes have been cleared off, and there’s a little bit of cranberry sauce on Jihoon’s chin. Seungkwan gently wipes it off with a napkin before tucking his own coat around the sleeping man and turning off the lights.

**********************************************************************

Jihoon wakes up in the dark. His neck feels stiff, and he wonders what woke him from his peaceful nap. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to nap. He wished he had that equipment he saw at the music store to work with: it would greatly streamline his production process. His studio door creaks as he heads towards the kitchen for a little snack to get him through the night. Maybe some more of that surprisingly good turkey, he is thinking when he stumbles headfirst into something big and red.

“What?” Jihoon stutters uncharacteristically, then recovers. It’s Santa.

Rather, it’s Seungkwan, dressed in a cheap Santa costume. He hasn’t got the beard, but the hat tipped with white pompom and the red furlined outfit is there. He’s dragging a huge sack of presents behind him. When he immediately puts a finger to both their lips and shushes Jihoon dramatically, loud enough to be more likely to wake people than Jihoon’s original stutter.

“Ho ho ho Merry Christmas little Jihoonie!” Seungkwan says, before Jihoon clocks him in the side of the head.   
“This is what I get, eh? Well, I have something much nicer for you.” Seungkwan-Santa riffles through his sack, face all smiles, before drawing something out with a little “Aha!”.

 

 “Merry Christmas, hyung,” the laughing boy says, delicate hands wrapping his smaller ones around a small, oddly shaped box. Even with his eyes on Seungkwan, he knows exactly what is wrapped within, the curves and edges worn into his memory from weeks and weeks of cradling it longingly at the store, only to leave when the strangely forward clerks approached him. He looks down at the box within his hands, marveling at the weight of it, the reality of this present dawning on him.

“I saw how you kept going back to that display when we went shopping, so I got the members to pool together our money and get our Woozi producer –hyung a nice gift for all your hard work for us. “

He looks up, and Seungkwan’s face is a blur of bright lights and unbearably brilliant smile, the Christmas lights behind him forming an ethereal glow around him. Jihoon reaches a hand up to cover his eyes from the blinding sight, and realizes his face is wet. All the stress from pushing himself everyday, working himself to the bone so that his little family of 13 could be successful, all the while pushing them away when. His arms twitch, as he mumbles a thanks, his mind flooded with feelings that root him to the floor. As if reading his mind, Seungkwan sweeps him into a hug, and for once in his life, Jihoon squeezes back, putting his all into it.

Maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all.

 


End file.
